Torn Between
by Scribbler Kitty
Summary: A long oneshot I wrote for a contest on a site I'm on. I won...but I don't really like what I wrote! XD Anyway, just thought I'd upload it.


**Ah, well, I did this story for a contest on a site I'm on. (BTW, the site is http-collen-slashslash-warriorsforest. Anyway, here's the result. The theme was Hope. (Unexpectedly, I won the contest. XD) I know Warriors is written in third person, but I love first person too…this is a kind of weird and meaningless story, and I think I overdid it and went out of topic and wrote it too long. But anyway…here goes!**

Torn Between by Tawny

He took it away, my will to live, and my hope that before had been so bright.

He saved me when I was lost, when all hope was gone.

I was lost, drowning in blackness and despair, but he pulled me out and gave me hope, where none had been before, because of him.

Hope. He was the cause when I lost it, and the cause when I gained it, and everything it symbolised.

But wait. Let me tell you my story, and his.

My name is Larkwing of WindClan, and I am eighteen moons old. I am no longer a kit, nor an apprentice, but a full-grown warrior. And yet, I was lost.

I had a brother. His name was Hawksong. We were exactly alike, slender grey tabbies with startling pairs of blue eyes that were identical. I loved him. He loved me. We were very close, closer than even most twins.

We had moved in lockstep from the day we were born, opening our eyes at the same moment, apprenticed on the same day, made warriors on the same day.

And, I am sure, we would have been given apprentices on the same day.

If not for that fateful day.

We were so alike, yet so different. I was content with my life, quiet but not withdrawn. He…always seemed a little restless, as if Clan life was not for him. And he disliked our leader, or so he said. Our leader, Flamestar, who was constantly pressing attacks on other Clans, who hated them with all her heart. I often went along with anything, but my brother disagreed with her views.

He was always more adventurous than me, the one who had ideas, the one who dared to try new things. His curiosity would never let him go till he did.

I, the quiet one, would simply follow him around, watching over him, pulling him out of whatever trouble he got himself into.

There was once, when we were apprentices, he strayed to the very edge of our border, telling me he wanted to see a dog. A strange notion, probably put into his head by the elders' tales we used to love hearing. Anyway, he ran out of camp, and I followed, intending to get him back as quickly as possible.

When I reached the farm, it was only to see a huge dog chasing my terrified brother, who was running blindly, crying out for help.

I may be quiet, but I am not timid. I drew the dog off, went up a tree till my brother had escaped and the dog's owner had collected it, and then returned to camp.

Such trouble he got himself into, my brother Hawksong. And yet, I loved him all the more for it.

But there is one that I nearly did not forgive him for.

Soon after we became warriors – the newly named Hawksong and Larkwing – I noticed him acting strangely. He could have concealed it from any other Clan cat, but not his twin, not his close sister. He would disappear from long periods at a time, mostly in the night, when no one was awake – oh, how I missed his warm presence by my side, for that was how I knew he was gone – and come back smelling strongly of foxdung. And then he would mumble something about an accident when I enquired, and rush out to wash himself in the stream that flowed merrily beside the camp. And he would return to carry out the normal duties of a warrior, with none the wiser.

Except me. Me, I knew he was hiding a secret.

But I never expected…that.

I remember the night before that fateful day, we were curled up together, in our mossy nest in the warriors den. Softly, I meowed to him, my beloved brother, "Hawksong, tell me your secret. I am your twin sister, for StarClan's sake. You can't keep secrets from me."

And I saw the indecision and fear in his blue eyes, so like my own, as he looked at me. And I heard the pain in his voice as he answered, "I…I'm sorry, Larkwing, I…can't. I'm sorry."

Oh, how much I regretted not pressing the matter further at that time! I should have made him tell, for perhaps I could have saved him…

But I saw how torn he was, and I could not make myself force him.

And only later did I know that he was torn between his love for me, and his belief in his views. And his final choice rent my heart in two, as if scarred by claws.

But then, that night, curled up with him and listening to his heartbeat as it beat in time with mine, I made the decision to follow him tonight, and to see where he went.

It tore me to betray my brother so, to wittingly discover a secret he wanted so desperately to keep, but I could not let this continue. We were siblings, and we had never kept secrets from each other until this.

So when he stirred from slumber and rose I feigned sleep, and watched him as he looked around the nest, and left the den, pawsteps stealthy.

I counted to ten, then got to my paws. Careful not to wake the other warriors, I left too, my grey pelt making me simply a shadow in the night, as my brother was.

His fresh scent barely lingered, beginning to slowly fade and become stale. And he was careful not to leave tracks. But I knew my brother so very well, as only twins knew each other, and I shadowed him over the moonlit moor without much difficulty.

And yet I forgot that as I knew him, he knew me, too.

He was heading in a familiar direction, towards the Twoleg farms at the edge of WindClan territory. I felt a twinge of déjà vu, and wondered, _What is he up to this time? A midnight jaunt, out to see another dog?_

But no, it was not.

At the edge of our territory, he suddenly changed direction, veering off to follow the borderline, slinking furtively along in the long grass. I hesitated for a moment, then followed, mirroring his wary gait.

And so I was caught unawares when I suddenly lost his scent. He seemed to have disappeared into the night. Raising my head, I lashed my tail, puzzled. Where had my brother gone?

A furious hiss sounded from behind me.

"You followed me!"

I whirled around, blue eyes very wide. So. He had known I was following. Indeed, he knew me as well as I knew him, knew I would trail him tonight…

"Hawksong–" I began.

My brother did not give me a chance to continue. "I knew you would." A note of sadness entered his voice. "But I hoped – I hoped you trusted me enough. I hoped against hope you did." His tone hardened, and he spat, "Apparently, you didn't."

I was about to explain myself – my fears, my worries for him, my love, my reasons, everything, to show I had what was best for him at heart – but he continued, his voice pleading now, before I could open my mouth.

"Please, Larkwing – please, leave now. I need you to. Go back to camp. Forget about me. I'll be back in the morning, I promise. Nothing bad is going to happen. Please, Larkwing, on our love for each other as brother and sister, leave."

What could I say, when he pleaded with that? I hesitated, thoughts whirling in my head. Then I nodded.

Relief was written all over his face. "Thank you," he said genuinely. In a gesture of affection, he leaned forward and licked my ear, then turned and padded away.

I watched him go, hesitating to do as I had promised, to leave. And then I made on of the hardest decisions I have ever made.

I decided break my promise – to follow him still.

What could this secret be, that he would keep it from the rest of his Clanmates, from even his own sister? Something that was a danger to the Clan? I had to know. It was a very hard decision. Following would be betraying my brother; not following would be betraying the Clan. How could I afford to do either? How could I afford not to?

But my brother could forgive me; the Clan might not. And so I followed him.

He stopped in front of a small structure, a derelict, abandoned Twoleg hut. Its roof sagged dangerously, and its door swung half-off rusty old hinges, creaking slightly as the night wind played with it.

I felt a jolt of anxiety. Was my brother going in there? That old heap looked as if it would topple any moment! If it did so while he was in there.

I watched, frozen, as my beloved twin took a deep breath, then padded to the entrance and called out, "Razor, are you in there?"

Razor? Who was Razor? A name I was sure I had never heard before, but it sounded vaguely familiar…

And then a dark-pelted battle-scarred cat with an unmistakeable scar that ran across his throat emerged from the hut, and my breath caught in my throat.

Razorclaw.

The notorious rogue who had left my Clan a few moons before, when I was a new apprentice, charged with attempted assassination of Flamestar. And now he called himself Razor. Surely…surely my brother couldn't be thinking of…associating with this…this…rogue…who had tried to murder our leader!

And then something clicked in my head, and I knew. Razorclaw had tried to kill Flamestar because he disliked her ways. He had failed and been sentenced to death, but escaped. He surely wanted vengeance on the leader. If Flamestar died, the deputy Cougarpelt would become leader, and he was very different from Flamestar. Hawksong disliked Flamestar too, and was a perfect tool…

I stared in horror. Surely Hawksong wouldn't do as Razorclaw had done! Surely not my brother! _Tell me this isn't happening, tell me…_

But I could only watch, frozen, as the two cats faced each other. Razorclaw meowed in the harsh voice he had acquired when Flamestar gave him the scar across his throat, "Well, young Hawksong. Here you are. Are you ready?"

_No, Hawksong_, I begged silently. _Say no_. So. This was what he did not want me to see. His betrayal of his Clan, our Clan, the Clan that we loved. That _I_ loved. I wasn't sure of him any more.

"Yes."

My heart dropped like a stone.

"Very well. You will kill Flamestar tonight, before dawn. In her sleep, seven times – for she has seven lives left. Do not alert any other cat."

"Yes, Razor."

"Oh, and about your sister –"

A gasp, quickly stifled, escaped me when I heard those words. Surely Razorclaw didn't know! If he did…if he knew I was here…

"I was watching your meeting just now. She may be gone, but she knows too much. Kill her, if you are loyal to me."

I closed my eyes, unable to watch, and wished I could close my ears too. But I could not, and the next words echoed through my head. I felt sick.

"But – "

"Kill her!"

My brother's voice was very quiet. "Yes, Razor."

My mind in a daze, I ran as fast as my paws would carry me. Hawksong was coming. Coming, to kill, Flamestar…and to kill me. Surely he wouldn't – he wouldn't kill his sister, his beloved twin! But he had said _yes_ to Razorclaw…I had to get back to camp quickly!

Get back to camp, and do what? I asked myself the desperate question, unsure. Despite all this, I still loved my brother, more than anything else. More than the Clan?

I could not make myself continue that line of thought. Still, the question hung in the air. Who did I love more? My brother, or my Clan?

If I revealed my brother, he would almost certainly be killed. If I didn't Flamestar would be killed, and maybe me. Oh, why, why did this have to happen? _Why?_ It seemed hopeless. Now knowing what my brother had been doing, I felt hopeless. Oh, why, Hawksong? The brother I had loved all along, trusted all along, why had he betrayed the Clan? There was nothing to live for now. Not with this discovery.

I almost felt like jumping into the river and drowning. At least…that would be an end to my troubles.

I had no hope left. Only determination. A determination to save the Clan, at least. I continued running, though my legs felt as if they were about to give way. Before I knew it, the gorse bushes that walled the camp were looming up in front of me. It was still night, but it seemed days had passed since the moment I had stepped out of camp on my brother's trail. I had discovered so much, and lost so much…

Then a fresh cat-scent blew to me on the wind. A scent that was a familiar to me as my own. I stiffened. Hawksong. He was already here.

I knew where to find him.

Flamestar's den was carved into the rock that stood like a sentinel over the sleeping camp. It could not guard from the danger within, though. My heart felt cold and empty as I prowled towards the den entrance, and stopped.

Someone was there before me.

A figure, ghostly grey in the faint moonlight that barely lit the cave, stood over a sleeping shape. Hawksong and Flamestar. He had always hated her. And now he raised a paw to deliver the deathblow. No, to deliver it seven times. Razorclaw had said she had seven lives. Well, after all, with all the battles she had been in, it was surprising she still had seven lives…it was her own fault, really, going on all those battles, she had lost many lives and it was her own fault.

I shook my head, attempting to clear my thoughts. Strange what the mind thought of at times like these, when it wanted to ignore what was happening.

My leaden paws carried me forward, and forward, to slam into Hawksong, knock him off his feet and pin him down on the earthy floor of the den. My voice, hoarse from fear and pain, hissed, "No! Hawksong! You can't!"

He stared up at me, blue eyes cold, and no longer like mine. My eyes had never been that cold, cold as ice. I did not know this cat any more. "Why not?" the cat hissed. "She is a bad leader, sister. She harms the Clan. She is better off in StarClan."

"Do not call me sister!" I spat! "You are not my brother! My brother would never have betrayed the Clan, betrayed me!"

His eyes flashed dangerously. "Betrayed you? You were the one who betrayed me, Larkwing. You broke your promise. If you hadn't, you wouldn't be here, fighting your own brother! Let me go! Let me finish off the job!"'

"You are not my brother," I said, my voice devoid of emotion.

He snarled, and heaved upwards, sending me flying, to smash into the wall of stone opposite, to slide down like a broken piece of fresh-kill, tasting salty blood in my mouth. My own blood.

Helpless, I could only watch as he turned, to face the sleeping Flamestar again…

…to find that she was no longer sleeping.

The ginger tabby leader's amber eyes burned with fury. "Traitor!" she snapped at Hawksong, not even sparing a glance for me. The tom returned her gaze, and if looks could kill, Flamestar would have been writhing on the floor of the den, losing a life. But they could not, and so the two cats faced off, claws unsheathed.

I watched, hopeless. If Flamestar won, Hawksong would die. If Hawksong won, Flamestar would die. But anyway, it did not really matter, did it? I had lost the only brother I had ever had, transformed into a cold, murderous rogue.

Strangely, the battle was silent, without any of the usual yowls, threats and insults. My limbs were leaden; I could not have interfered even if I had wanted too. But I did not want to. I had no love for either of the opponents.

Suddenly – so suddenly I did not know how it happened – Flamestar was standing over Hawksong, pinning him down. The she-cat snarled softly, "Now you will die, traitor."

Hawksong responded with a blank, cold look.

Flamestar raised a paw, with claws that were already stained with blood. And in that moment I discovered that I still had some feeling for Hawksong after all, and I found myself able to cry out.

"Flamestar, no!"

In that split second, Hawksong turned his head. The coldness in his eyes melted away, to be replaced by confusion and fear. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then…Flamestar's deathblow tore into his throat – she had not hesitated even at my plea – and crimson blood came pouring out in a flood.

I cried out, almost feeling my brother's pain. "Nooooooooooo!"

Flamestar stepped back, smiling triumphantly. "It is done."

Heedless of her words, I darted forward, suddenly able to move again. Crouching beside the grey tabby's still body, I gazed down at his closed eyes, willing them to open, willing him to live.

When you wish for something so very much and it suddenly happens, you often do not know what to say. Hawksong's eyes flickered open. He gazed up at me, and no more was there the killer in them, but the young, friendly brother I had known. I looked back, everything I wanted to say caught in a lump in my throat.

Then – my heart fluttered desperately when I realised he was dying. "Hawksong – " I called out desperately, wanting to catch him, wanting to stop him from slipping away, slipping upwards, slipping into StarClan…

His smiled at me, a beautiful smile. And then his eyes closed, and his head lolled to one side limply, and his jaws parted, the last breath escaping his body.

But with that breath, I could have sworn I heard words.

_I love you, Larkwing…_

And with those words, my hope returned. I looked up at Flamestar, who was studying me intently.

"Let us hope you do not follow in your brother's pawsteps. He was a traitor. I was listening to your conversation."

Calmly, I said, "My brother was not a traitor. The cat who hated you was."

Flamestar narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean? He tried to kill me."

She would never understand. I shook my head and smiled slightly, then padded out of the leader's den.

The night sky was dappled with stars, a great band of them, stretching across the heavens. Silverpelt. I stood there, looking up, with a cool breeze ruffling my whiskers, and knowing that Hawksong was up there, somewhere, watching over me.

I had hope again. I could live again.

_I love you too, Hawksong._


End file.
